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Golden Apples of the Sun

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Maybe it's just me -- though I doubt it, frankly -- but the discovery that "Long Black Veil," recorded by hordes of roots artists as if in obedience to some unwritten law, has been covered yet again never fails to elicit a low, irritated growl. Anyone within listening distance could have picked up that growl as I removed Caroline Herring's "Golden Apples of the Sun" from the package in which it arrived. I could not have been more wrong. Sometimes it is good to be wrong.

Written in 1959 by Danny Dill and Marijohn Wilkin, the folksong-like "Veil" was covered the same year by Lefty Frizzell, who turned it into a country hit. I was introduced to it on a Johnny Cash album a few years later. I thought it was a good story with a memorable twist, set to a nice tune. I did not anticipate that over the decades it would be beaten to death, through sheer repetition buried lower than the ballad's strung-up narrator. Miraculously, Herring resurrects the song resplendently, first by rewriting that worn-out melody, second by treating it as if it were something not from 50 years ago but from 150. There's her plaintive singing (with Ann Castro's backup vocal), and there is also the unsettling arrangement, incorporating old-time banjo and the drone of a one-stringed instrument (presumably a diddly bow) courtesy of David Goodrich, Herring's sole accompanist throughout "Golden Apples." When the song came on the player, some moments passed before I even realized what I was listening to.

Small miracles abound on this marvelous recording. It arises from an unlikely, in lesser hands unpromising, premise: a modern-day folk singer's effort to pay tribute to two 1960s heroes, Judy Collins and Joni Mitchell. (In the latter 1960s it was still possible to think of Mitchell as something like a folk singer.) Herring even borrows the title of Collins's second Elektra album, released in 1962, consisting of all traditional songs but for a setting-to-music of W. B. Yeats's poem "Song of the Wandering Aengus," with its famous closing line "the silver apples of the moon, the golden apples of the sun." (Yeats took his inspiration from a legend associated with Aengus Og, the Irish god of love and beauty.) Herring offers up her own lovely, mysterious version of "Aengus," joining the esteemed company of other fine artists who have attempted the same; besides Collins, they include Karan Casey, Tommy Makem, Jean Redpath, Donovan, even -- rather incredibly -- Dave Van Ronk.

Herring does one early Mitchell song, the forgotten "Cactus Tree" (from "Song to a Seagull," her 1968 debut album) which proves -- unsurprisingly, given Herring's exemplary taste as much as Mitchell's -- well worth reviving. This cover also underscores Herring's debt to Mitchell's unique vocal style as well as to her composing approach. Yet this is entirely deliberate, really the whole point of the exercise. I did not think of Mitchell when I heard Herring's previous CD, "Lantana," but I heard the same strengths: strong, graceful singing, superior songwriting, compelling interpretations of traditional and other material, and intellectual, emotional, and musical maturity.

Every song is some variety of alluring. I've heard few singers who have so perfectly integrated art and folk song. And unlike Mitchell, Herring knows the tradition well -- it's part of her natural vocabulary -- but it is very much her own personalized vision of that tradition. Consider with all due awe the rolling, de-bluesified "See See Rider," with rarely heard but authentically aged lyrics. Her Mitchell-esque originals -- "A Turn Upon the Hill," "The Dozens," "The Great Unknown" -- likewise show that it only looks as if Herring were a borrower. She is, in fact, an owner of a magnificent and distinctive talent. With "Golden Apples" she is on her way.

There is a scene in the director's cut of Almost Famous that involves Jason Lee's character going off on those who disdain popular music because, he believes, popular music is popular because it is good.

Maybe. But I am convinced, and offer Golden Apples of the Sun as Exhibit A, that music and talent are rarely rewarded based on merit. I suppose that we will not see Golden Apples of the Sun go platinum, and Caroline chased about by hungry paparazzi. However, I am willing to bet that three hours after you listen to the album for the first time, you will still be thinking about it -- that you will listen to it, and know that you have encountered music and lyrics that, if music's ubiquity in our culture were based on real quality, you would be hearing in subway stops and truckstops everywhere.

It is just that good.

Herring's albums always seem to arrive at the right time -- when I'm in need of moving, literate compositions that remind me of the power and possibility of acoustic music.

The strength of Herring's writing comes for her extraordinary ability to straddle the line between honoring the past and forging her own unique voice -- which means her compositions have a familiarity about them while convincing you that you've never quite heard material like this before. That's true of "Golden Apples," which is more intimate than her previous releases, and which features covers of songs by Joni Mitchell and Judy Collins -- in Herring's distinctive style. (A companion EP, "Silver Apples of the Moon," includes a gorgeous take on Kate Wolf's "Here in California.") But it's Herring's original works that shine most golden here, her soothing voice and acoustic guitar a perfect match for her poetic sketches. Highly recommended.

Okay, today I am under the influence of the children of the moon. Or is it that this weekend I went to a folk music concert (featuring the jug music of Maria Muldaur of the old time 1960s Jim Kweskin Jug Band and sidekick John Sebastian of The Lovin' Spoonful) and noticed that the ages of the majority of the patrons could have permitted the session to double up as an AARP meeting. This brings me to the subject at hand. Who will, if anyone, carry on the old folk traditions that we helped revive in the 1960s?

Every musical genre needs its revivalists, or it will merely past out of history. Folk (or, more properly, traditional music) has always had boosts: sometimes from surprising sources like Francis Child and his incessant ballad collecting in the 19th century, the father and son Lomaxes, John and Alan, the father, sons and daughter Seeger, Charles, Pete, Mike and Peggy. They, and others, carried the tradition through to the 1960s (and beyond) but I do not now see, and that concert audience's composition kind of confirmed a long held suspicion of mine, the younger blood that will preserve the tradition.


We know, however, that it will continue as long as people want to make <em>ad hoc</em> music for themselves and their circle. Moreover, that future folk music will, maybe, sound unlikely to our ears. That has always been the case though. Who would have thought that, let's say, Harry Smith's "Anthology Of American Folk Music" with its eclectic mishmash of styles and forms like mountain music, gospel, country blues and the like would have the seminal influence that it had on an urban, educated, for the most part upscale and upwardly mobile population that came of age in the 1960s.

That said, I have no answer about whom, or what whirlwind, will ultimately set the new agenda for folk music but I would take time here to point out one candidate whose CD I am reviewing as part of this commentary, Caroline Herring. Her latest CD "Golden Apples Of The Sun" seems to be me to set the right tone for what the future of folk might look like. Obviously it will continue to depend on guitars, fiddles, mandolins and whatever low or high tech instrumental developments come along. But it will, like the revival of the 1960s, depend as well on the mix of old time music with some new, fresh material that will response to the needs of a new audience.

In that sense this CD fits a right balance. Three excellent compositions on this CD "Tale of The Islander", "The Dozens", and "Abuelita" (as well as a couple of others) are Ms. Herring's own work, and influenced by ideas that stem from her experiences and worldview. "See See Rider", a classic old time tune that I first heard Mississippi John Hurt do back in the days, the much covered mournful ballad "Long Black Veil", and the poem by William Butler Yeats set to music "Song Of The Wandering Aengus" reflect that tip of the hat to tradition. Of course in this space anyone who has the forethought to set a Yeats poem to music will have me eating out of their hand, no question. But that is a story for another day. What is for today is that this is what the future of folk looks like.

Caroline Herring's voice exudes understated Southern passion - a voice which delicately trembles and quietly smoulders as it embraces the lyrics of each song. Upfront, Caroline plays acoustic guitar and, on one track, banjo. Producer David Goodrich plays a range of instruments including electric guitars, ukulele and piano - apart from the occasional short solo, they are played sparingly to add a little extra texture to the music; he is also credited with electric bass and percussion, but their playing is barely perceptible throughout the album.


Her first album, 'Twilight', featured songs with a traditional folk/country influence but, with subsequent releases, she has placed greater emphasis on songs with more of a 'folksier' character. On this album she continues in that vein, this time drawing upon a wider range of styles and influences. There are 3 covers of songs by other writers, a 'trad. arr.' and 2 songs which are adaptations of poems. Her own songs, of which there are 6, are reflective and intimate - often evoking a strong sense of tradition and/or spirituality.

Some comments about my favourite songs :

TALES OF THE ISLANDER (Caroline Herring) - The song is an ode to Gulf Coast painter Walter Anderson - its title is a reference to Horn Island, where he spent much of his latter years as a recluse. It's a little more up-beat than most of the other songs on the album - exquisitely sung with picked acoustic guitar and piano accompaniment. Some terrific lyrics, rich in imagery - for example : 'We could bathe in the nullah of a gulf stream, Prowl like cats in the night, Then transform like moths, In a chrysalis of light'.

TRUE COLORS (Billy Steinberg/Tom Kelly) - Caroline takes this Cyndi Lauper song and makes it sound as if it was never intended to be a mainstream pop song in the first place. She imbues it with that same dark emotional nuance which can be heard in many of her own songs. It opens with sonorous acoustic guitar strumming which continues throughout the song; electric guitar is also featured, including a short solo.

LONG BLACK VEIL (Danny Dill/Marijohn Wilkin, arr. Caroline Herring) - I think Caroline's rendition is 'rootsier' than the 2 others that I've heard (Johnny Cash and Joan Baez) - her mournful vocals enunciate perfectly the song's dark and chilling mood (not dissimilar to that of her own stunning song 'Paper Gown' from the 'Lantana' album). It features insistent acoustic guitar and banjo strumming to create a slightly ominous rhythmic groove; also, there are some fine (if somewhat brief) backing vocals courtesy of Ann Castro.

SEE SEE RIDER (trad. arr. Caroline Herring) - I'm not familiar with any other versions of this song, although I believe it was originally a 12-bar blues - here, it's a folk-blues performed in a fairly laid-back manner. Instrumental accompaniment is from acoustic guitar and slide guitar (the latter giving the song its 'bluesy' feel).

My other favourite songs are 'The Dozens' and 'Song of the Wandering Aengus'; I liked 'Cactus Tree', but Caroline's version is very close to the original by Joni Mitchell (which I prefer). Only 'A Turn Upon the Hill', 'Abuelita' and 'The Wild Rose' don't entice me as much as the other songs on this album, and they are tracks that I am unlikely to play very often.


'Lantana' still remains my favourite album by Caroline Herring; 'Golden Apples of the Sun' has many superb songs and strong performances but, as an album in its entirety, I find it to be less consistent that either 'Twilight' or 'Lantana'.

Though Herring has come to prominence in Austin music circles, her music has veered away from the bluegrass with which she began, as well as the country with which she rose to prominence. Her voice has always harbored a singer-songwriter's intimacy, but starting with last year's Lantana, she stepped further in front of her band and dropped the drums and steel in favor of acoustic guitars and bass. This fourth album pushes even further in that stripped-down direction, with hard strummed and rolling finger-picked guitars providing the dominant backing, augmented by bass, piano and touches of banjo and ukulele. The minimized backings reveal additional depth in Herring's voice, an instrument that mixes the vibrato of Buffy St. Marie, crystalline tone of Judy Collins, and several dashes of Lucinda Williams' emotional poetics.

Herring's latest album splits its twelve tracks between originals and covers. The latter includes a brilliant conversion of Cyndi Lauper's 1986 hit "True Colors" into a dark spiritual. Lauper's sung this song live with guitar, piano and zither, but it was still infused with the original single's optimism. Herring pitches the vocal ambivalently between worry and reassurance, with a moody rhythm guitar that dispels Lauper's upbeat mood. The oft-covered murder ballad "Long Black Veil" provides Herring another terrific opportunity for reinvention, stripping the instrumental to a drone, the song is more of a distraught first-person confession than the folksy story of Lefty Frizell or Johnny Cash. Even the Big Bill Broonzy standard "See See Rider" is reborn amidst the vocal trills Herring adds to edges of her performance. Similar high notes and tremolo decorate a tour de force cover of Joni Mitchell's "Cactus Tree."

The original songs, five solo compositions and a co-write with Wendell Berry and Pablo Neruda, are even more closely attuned to Herring's vocal charms. The lyrics are filled with questions of uncertain relationships, longing for escape and understanding, distant destinations and brave faces. Singing to low acoustic strums, Herring jabs with the lyrics of "The Dozens," demanding engagement in the guise of a game of insults. The assuredness with which she sings adds weight to every word, and the emotion-laden quality of her voice can bring tears to your eyes. Though she can conjure the ghostly images of earlier times, the clarity of her tone and the forthrightness of her style are more in the folk tradition of the 1960s than the 1860s. Herring is a critical darling whose work outstrips the plaudits of even her most ardent admirers. [©2009 hyperbolium dot com]

As a big fan of Lantana, named by NPR as one of the top ten folk albums of 2008, I was excited to get my hands on her latest album. Golden Apples of the Sun reveals something new each time I listen. Caroline's voice is honest and rich, stripped bare of affect.

Caroline Herring is a consummate artist - as evidenced by her own original songs (half of the album) and original compilations of classic American music (Joni Mitchell), 80s pop (Cindy Lauper), traditional bluegrass ("Old Black Veil") and blues ("See See Rider").

Some of the highlights for me include:

"Tales of the Islander" -What a triumphant celebration of Walter Anderson's life! It's as if she, like Anderson, were called by that same insatiable desire to feel profoundly and completely the beauty and power wound up tight inside even the smallest of things like moths and here, in Anderson himself. Caroline is fully awake to all that Anderson created.

"The Dozens" - As I overheard my 4-year old sing "knocked over by a garbage truck" I was struck (no pun intended) by how dark her lyrics can be. One of her most intimate songs, it reveals a vulnerability that startles. I'm not sure why I'm made so uncomfortable by it, perhaps the near mythologized figure to whom she pays homage, or the stark reality of her own inferiority she can not shed in the light of this grand man, Larry Levine. I'm drawn to this song again and again.

"A Little Bit of Mercy" - This is a tender and powerful paean to Forgiveness and Compassion, rightful goddesses of Love. "Sometimes we all just do the best that we can." Amen to that. The lyrics speak of a woman for whom forgiveness and compassion - a little bit of mercy - were the fruits of a well worn emotional life. The song lifts my soul.

"Song of the Wandering Aengus" - It's William Butler Yeats' poem set to music and I have no doubt Mr. Yeats wouldn't be honored by it. Evoking loss and hope, Yeats' words move beyond the page, the images hovering in some otherworldly place, ethereal and haunting. The song is gracefully rendered.

"The Great Unknown" - I love the woven narrative in this song. In the chorus, she folds in the story of Dante and Virgil emerging from the depths of hell as told in The Divine Comedy's Inferno with a story (or stories) of how our fears haunt us, halt us, and ultimately spur us on to make a life for ourselves.

I chose not to include the covers in the highlights, but really they deserve just as much recognition. How effortlessly she nails Joni Mitchell's "Cactus Tree," turns an 80s pop song into a convincing dark ballad and celebrates the tragic beauty of the loyalty of forbidden love in "Long Dark Veil" (kneeing slapping all the while). Golden Apples of the Sun is a remarkable achievement.

Caroline Herring has created a masterpiece with Golden Apples of the Sun. Her powerful lyrics and moving melodies provide listeners with music that will played over and over again. Everyone that I have introduced Caroline's music to has said, "I can't get enough!"

Tales of the Islander is a creative look inside Walter Anderson's life, and Caroline's imagery will bring tears of joy to your eyes. She revisits Joni Mitchell's Cactus Tree and gives new life to True Colors.

While listening to Caroline Herring, you feel like she is right there in the same room. Her music will make you laugh, cry, and enter a place where music truly comes to life. I ensure that you will listen to Golden Apples of the Sun every day, just as I do...

Like others here, I first heard Caroline Herring a couple of weeks ago on NPR. After hearing 90 seconds of Abuelita, I was smitten. I finally had to give in and buy the album, and the rest of the songs proved to be just as haunting and glorious. As James Taylor would say, "It will make your dog weep." This music is beautiful and soulful like nothing I've heard in a long time.

I did not know anything about Caroline Herring. Yesterday, while I was cooking, I was listening to All Things Considered and there she was... It made me go immediately to the computer and buy the album. Awesome. By the way, did you know that the album on iTunes is $1 more expensive?